


Unwind

by lowtides



Series: fc5 writing prompts [4]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Smut, a kind of aggressive dep?, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 18:31:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17105924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowtides/pseuds/lowtides
Summary: “Thought you were, um, propositioning me out there. This morning.”It’s quiet for a second, her words settling in.Then Jacoblaughs.





	Unwind

**Author's Note:**

> prompt lines:  
> "Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?"  
> "Good boy."
> 
> hastily proofread, sorry! you're welcome to let me know if there are any horrendous typos!
> 
> happy holidays yall

“So,” Rook says once Jacob’s soldiers have left the room. She clears her throat awkwardly, unable to keep her eyes on Jacob for too long.

“So,” he echoes, looking unimpressed.

 _Maybe this was a bad idea._ “Well, ah…”

“Time’s tickin’, Deputy. I suggest you get on with it,” Jacob says gruffly, each consonant stark in the quiet of the room. He sets the clipboard he was holding down on the desk, papers and maps scattered about. “If you got cold feet about selling out the Whitetails, I got better places to be, and you got a cage to starve in.”

“Wait, back up,” Rook frowns. “I’m not here to give you information. I—I thought that was a front.”

There’s a pause. An awkward pause.

“A front,” Jacob echoes flatly.

“Yeah,” she shrugs, “like, ah, because—”

Oh _no._ She stops herself, gesturing vaguely with her hands instead. This is _so_ not going where she thought it would, apparently, and now she just doesn’t want to say it. Things are already weird enough. Things are already _bad_ enough. She’s stuck in Jacob’s compound spending her days in her cage or _‘culling the herd,’_ she doesn’t want to make it any worse by giving him some kind of humiliating leverage.

“Use your words, Deputy. Or have my trials fried your brain completely?” Jacob purses his lips, mocking disappointment on his face. “Thought you were Stronger than that.”

_Ah, fuck it._

“Thought you were, um, propositioning me out there. This morning.”

It’s quiet for a second, her words settling in.

Then Jacob _laughs_. A loud bark of laughter, gone as soon as it came. He walks around his desk, towards her, to lean on the edge of the desk. Despite the laugh just now ( _did she imagine that?_ ), his expression is cold steel, eyes narrowed at her. “You really think that shit would work on me? You think I would’ve let you close enough to try to gut me the second you get the chance? Shit, maybe my trials _did_ fry your brain.”

“That—that wasn’t my plan at all.”

Jacob crosses his arms, looking at her skeptically. “What was your plan, then?”

Rook makes an uncertain sound, shrugging casually as she avoids his eyes. “Well… ah, to _y’know_ …”

 _To do the dirty with you._ It’s already embarrassing to say, when it’s clear now that he _definitely_ wasn’t propositioning her, and saying it the way she thought it would just make it _worse._ Holy shit, she’s had to have hit her head too many times or something, because she’s certainly not thinking with it.

Jacob looks unfazed, his expression blank and unreadable. “And?”

“And what?”

“And what next? Grab my key, try to escape?”

“I honestly didn’t think of that,” Rook blinks, wondering _why_ she didn’t think of that. She feels her cheeks heat up. _No plan at all, huh? Apparently, thinking of Jacob’s Seed’s dick makes me stupid enough to not use this to my advantage._ “Look, for some reason I think you’re really hot. I just wanted to give it a go, no strings attached."

Jacob snorts derisively, teeth poking out in a cold smirk. There’s something about that smirk, the twitch of his brow, that doesn’t feel as casual and careless as his body language suggests. He jerks his chin towards the door. “Get out.”

“Already gone,” Rook says hurriedly, heading in the direction opposite of the door—towards an open window. Her brain only starting to notice an opening for her escape.

Rook’s slower than she normally is, two days of no food will do that to you. She didn’t account for that in the half-assed escape plan she thought of five seconds ago, so before she can even get her hand on the frame, Jacob’s snatched her up. She didn’t even hear his steps.

Jacob briskly spins her around—facing him instead of the window—and pushes her back against the wall by the window. His grip digs into her shoulders, steadying her against the wall so hard she thinks her shoulder blades might bruise.

“You think it’s gonna be that fuckin’ easy?” Jacob hisses above her. He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing her.

Rook laughs nervously, staring at his lips. “I’m winging it. Been winging everything the second the helicopter crashed.”

Something about the way she’s looking at him must speak to him, because Jacob's hands leave her shoulders, taking his warmth with him. When she drags her eyes up—away from wet pink lips—and meets his gaze, she finds her mouth suddenly dry. Something in his gaze has shifted. No longer cold and cruel, but curious.

His hands drift down, lifting the hem of her shirt slightly and weighing two fingers on top of her belt. He curls them, pulling her hips just the smallest distance forward, his rough fingertips grazing the warm skin below her navel. His eyes narrow as she gasps slightly. Apprehension rises from the cracks of Jacob’s stoic expression, as if he’s waiting for her to push him away. As if he’s waiting for her to tell him that he was right, and that she only wanted to distract him for her escape.

Without breaking eye contact, Rook swallows hard and locks her hand around his wrist, squeezing once.

Jacob says nothing, his broad shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. Then he’s moving, unbuckling her belt and undoing the button of her jeans with no gentleness to his ministrations. Rook’s pulse quickens when he pulls down the zipper of her jeans and shoves his hand inside, palming her through her underwear.

Rook bites her lip, exhaling shakily at the warmth of his hand. She should be embarrassed by how wet she is from just the anticipation of all this. Her underwear is practically soaked.

“Shit, already?” Jacob says, voice kept low between them. He quirks a brow, any shred of caution he had on his face is gone now—he knows she wants him. “Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”

Rook shivers, pressing forward into his warm, warm hand. Judging by the look in Jacob’s eye, it suffices as a response.

His hand trails back up, slipping out of her jeans and dragging her shirt up over her breasts. His other hand curves around her neck, turning her head slightly and baring her throat to him. Rook still says nothing, just breathes, feeling her elated pulse thud and thud and thud beneath his thumb.

“Last chance,” he breathes, something dark and controlled in his voice that makes Rook think his thoughts don’t match up with the leniency of his words.

“I wanna see that smarmy look you have fall right off your face,” Rook says low, proud that her voice remains steady despite how turned on she is. She swiftly reaches up and grabs a fistful of his military jacket, roughly tugging him down towards her. He could just as easily resist, but follows the force of the motion anyway, his mouth twitching. “I don’t want escape. Wanna see that look fall right off your face while I ride you flat on your back.”

“Y’think you’re in any position to made demands?” Jacob says scornfully, breathlessly. She can see his pupils dilate, pale blue being swallowed up into thin rings by a void of black. With one hand still holding her neck, Jacob pulls down a cup of her bra and takes her bare breast in his hand. He squeezes once, then pinches her sensitive nipple. “’Cause sweetheart, lemme tell ya—I don’t think you are.”

Rook gasps and tightens her hold on his jacket, knuckles blanching. She tiptoes and places another hand on the back of his neck to pull him down, the coarse red hairs of his beard scraping against her jaw as his mouth finds a spot right under her ear.

“You sure?” Rook whispers right into his ear, letting go of his jacket to palm the hardness in his jeans. It’s a fantastic sound, the low groan that tumbles out of him when she strokes down. “Because it feels like you like it when I make demands.”

Jacob nips at the skin beneath her ear, tongue darting out for a taste. He tweaks her nipple, and she can’t help but twitch closer to him with a breathy gasp, pressing her face into his scarred cheek.

Jacob pulls away, stopping just centimeters away from Rook’s face. Teeth grit, pale blue eyes scanning her face with fervent attention. He clutches her jaw, steering her face up to look at him. He just holds her in place as he teases her again, watching her moan and writhe to every touch.

Rook then bats his hand away and plants her palms on his chest for a hard shove. Jacob, fucking tank he is, only stumbles back half a step. He frowns at her, just the barest twitch of his brow. Rook rights her bra and pulls her shirt back down, licking her lips. “Bed?”

“Why not,” Jacob says after a moment, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously.

Testing the waters, Rook reaches out and grabs a bunch of Jacob’s military jacket again. She starts to walk towards the bed and tugs him along. She’s glad she’s facing away from him when she moves, so he doesn’t see her eyebrows shoot all the way up in surprise when he actually lets her pull him along.

There’s a bit of resistance, but he _lets_ her.

She knows that even though he’s listening to her, it’s likely because he knows he still has a level of control over the situation, over her. But damn if Rook doesn’t wanna see how far he’ll let her take this. He’s used to being in control, he’s probably the kind of person who _needs_ control, but considering the fact that he’s letting her do all of this, he might secretly be eager for a change of pace. Might. _He hasn’t thrown me back into the cages just yet._

“Have a seat,” she says when they’re standing by the bed. Jacob’s expression is stoic, unmoving as he stands still as stone. _Tense._ He’s always got this strong, confident step to his gait, but upon further scrutiny Rook can tell there’s a tension that’s always there. Rook shrugs and jerks her chin towards the bed. “Come on, Seed. Sit. Relax. _Unwind.”_

“Deputy.” Jacob takes hold of her chin, pinching hard as he jerks her head up to look at him. His tone is low and warning. “Don’t you fuckin’ try anything—”

Rook makes a frustrated sound and shakes her head out of his clutches. She grabs his belt, starting to undo his pants as she scoffs, “I think it’s already been established that I’m _not_ trying to escape, yeah? The only thing I’m gonna try is bossing you around, since you’re not killing me for that yet. Now, _sit.”_

With undone jeans and a displeased grunt, Jacob does as he’s told. He steps around her and sits on the edge of his bed, mattress creaking at the weight.

“Take off your shirt,” Rook tells him, eyeing him hungrily.

Jacob’s shoulders stiffen, and he looks irately at her. Pupils still wide with arousal, but he’s irked. “Not happening.”

Rook grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it up and off her head, dropping the piece of clothing onto the ground. “Take it off.”

His gaze turns dangerous. “S’not gonna be pretty.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Jacob stiffly removes his jacket. He casts another warning glance at her before he pulls his shirt off, dog tags falling against his bare chest. His torso’s a heart-wrenching mess of scars and burns of all shapes and sizes. It makes her sick to her stomach, the horrors that have been done to him. Rook shoves that sick feeling down. This is just a fuck to get it out of her system, she’s not here to _care_ about him.

Rook must have been staring for too long, because Jacob grits out a clipped and final, “Told ya.”

“No,” she says, reaching forward to splay her hand on his chest. He just barely flinches, breath hitching at the feel of skin on skin. She drags her hand across, mapping the terrain of his skin and curling soft red hair around a few fingers. “You’re pretty.”

Jacob’s hand lashes out—to grab her, to hurt her, she doesn’t know, because she catches his massive hand before it hits its mark and guides his fingers into her mouth. The threat Jacob was going to snarl at her dies in his throat the second his fingers meet her tongue. “You think you’re funn— _Christ.”_

She’s pretty sure she sees his cock twitch inside his pants.

Rook swirls her tongue around each digit in her mouth, keeping her eyes on him as he presses further inside with a shaky inhale. She pulls his fingers out of his mouth, wet and shining with her saliva. She smacks her lips, feeling dizzy with anticipation. Her voice comes out huskier than usual. “Touch yourself.”

Jacob, despite the arousal, shoots her another doubtful look, shoulders still tense.

Her hands still holding his own saliva-coated one, she brings his hand up to her face and licks a wet stripe up his palm. She licks one more time, tasting the salt and sweat on his skin, never looking away from him.

The hand in her grasp twitches. Rook lets go and watches Jacob hastily reach into his unzipped jeans and pulls himself out of his boxers. His hand, already slick from her mouth, wraps tight around the base of his long, thick cock and begins to pump.

Jacob's breathing turns erratic as he works himself, blown out eyes always kept forward to roam her body. When he speaks, it sends shivers up Rook's spine, hearing how breathless and gravelly he sounds. “Take off the rest. Start with your bra.”

Rook’s trying to be the commanding one in this scenario, but she'll let him have this one. She'll let him if she can keep hearing the sounds he makes while he fucks into his fist. Just to spite him, she starts with her jeans, hands drifting down to the waistband.

A growl tumbles out of Jacob, his expression skirting on the edge of control. “I said—”

“I know what you said,” Rook grins, starting to pull down her pants.

 _“Stop_ ,” he grates. “Slower.”

Rook shimmies out of her jeans down a little slower, feeling Jacob’s heady gaze burn holes into her exposed skin. She kicks her jeans aside and unhooks her bra, the discarded lingerie dropping to the ground the same time Jacob groans low in his throat. She steps closer towards him, his eyes catching her every movement, and she climbs onto the bed, sitting beside and slightly behind him so he has to turn to look at her.

Jacob opens his mouth, a frown making its way to the heady expression on his face. He starts to say something, ask something, but no noise comes out when Rook leans forward and presses her lips into his shoulder. It’s almost a flinch, the reaction he has when she trails her mouth along scarred, puckered skin.

“You wanna touch me?” Rook says low into his ear, pressing herself against Jacob’s back. Some distant, stupidly romantic part of her wants to trace every scar with her mouth, as if she could soothe past pains and horrors. Rook ignores the compulsion, the idea of it seeming so intimate that she bites at the meat of Jacob’s shoulder to try to drown it out.

“Fuck,” Jacob shudders, shifting on the edge of the bed to paw at her with his free hand. Rook moans when he takes one of her breasts in his hand like before, letting go of himself to grab the meat of her thigh with his other hand. His fingers dig into her thigh and pull. When she doesn’t budge, he impatiently lets go of her breast and loops his arm around her waist. “Come _here_.”

Before she can protest, he pulls her half onto his lap, his cockhead dragging along her thigh. Rook wiggles in his grasp and takes him in her hand, his shaft slick with her saliva from before. Jacob groans and buries his face between her breasts, almost pushing her down into the bed. His hand leaves her thigh and snakes down into her underwear, easily slipping two fingers into her.

He practically purrs when he starts moving his fingers inside her.

“All that for me, huh? You’re fuckin’ wet. Want me that bad?” Jacob murmurs, his breath hot and wet against her chest. She gasps, feeling his fingers thrust inside her and his tongue flick one of her nipples. She strokes his cock, swiping her thumb along the slit. Jacob bucks his hips, fucking into her fist. Rook feels his teeth scrape against her when rumbles, “Don’t you fuckin’ think you’re in charge here. You got me feeling nice today, so I’ll let you have your fun thinking you can boss me around.”

Rook lets go of him and pushes him away, breathing heavy. Jacob draws back with a small pout, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He slides his fingers out of her, and he inspects them, rubbing his wet fingertips together. Then he brings his hand down and starts to stroke himself again, covering his cock with her slick.

“Don’t,” Rook tells him, batting his hand away from himself. She kneels on the bed and pushes Jacob by his shoulders, pushing again when he doesn’t budge. “Lie down. _Down.”_

Jacob flashes her another _don’t tell me what to do_ look, but after a third shove he follows Rook’s urging, just as eager as she is for more. With a huff, he shifts onto the bed more and reclines halfway, watching her with hooded eyes. Rook moves towards him, stopping right beside his waist. She grabs the waistband of his jeans and tugs.

“Take it off,” she demands, “Take it off and lie on your fucking back.”

Jacob scoffs, and kicks off the rest of his clothes, his jeans and boxers dropping to the floor by the bed as Rook peels off her wet underwear. Jacob tries to sit up, tries to grab at her, but Rook slaps his hands away and throws a leg over his waist to straddle him.

“You want it, _Deputy?”_ Jacob taunts, low and breathy. He grabs her hip and squeezes. “Want my fuckin’ cock, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.” Rook angles herself over him and shoves at his chest, dragging blunt nails down the scars and patches of red hair. She pushes him down. “Lie down.”

“Watch your tone,” Jacob warns. He lies back anyway, only keeping his head craned up to watch her.

Rook hovers right above him. She pushes down on his chest, pinning him to the mattress. She pats his chest, “Good boy.”

His hand is lightning fast, surging out and locking around her throat. He squeezes tight, cutting off Rook’s air. “Say that again, Deputy, and I’ll fucking—”

Jacob’s snarl is cut short when Rook sinks down on his cock, his own groan drowned out by a cry escaping her lips. Jacob’s hand tightens on her throat once more then drops down to grab her breast, an animalistic sound reverberating in his throat when she takes him all the way to the hilt.

Rook starts grinding, lifting herself up and slamming back down on him. Starting slow, agonizingly slow at first, then faster. Jacob keens upwards, groaning into the column of her throat. She moans when he nips at her clavicle, one of his hands tangling in her hair and pulling her head back, baring her throat to him.

She can feel herself getting close, everything getting tighter, hotter. The rhythm they settle into is fast, it has both of them moaning and gasping. Amidst her haze of arousal, she wonders if they’re loud enough that people can hear them outside of Jacob’s room. She tugs on Jacob’s hair as she rocks harder against him, his dog tags sticking to her chest. _Louder_ , she wants him to be louder. She wants everyone to hear him.

“On your _fucking_ back,” Rook growls, pushing him backwards and slamming her hips into his again. Jacob near roars when she shoves him back, falling onto his back, his fingers planting bruises on her thighs.

Jacob retaliates by reaching between them and touching her clit, almost making Rook scream. He rubs at her hard, and Rook can’t keep herself over the edge. Her voice catches in her throat when she comes, reedy and jilted cries escaping her as she tightens around him. Rook drags her nails down Jacob’s chest as she rides her release, hard enough that even with her short nails she drags thin red lines into his scarred skin.

“Done using me, sweetheart?” Jacob groans hoarsely, grabbing a handful of her ass.

“Not yet,” Rook rasps. She’s spent, but she rocks into him with great effort, eager to feel him tremble beneath her. She runs her hands along his chest, reveling in every sound coming out of Jacob. “You gonna come, Jacob? Cum inside me, come on, come on. I wanna hear you scream, I want everyone in the mountains to hear you.”

 _“Fuck,”_ Jacob growls, twitching inside her. He groans loud, doesn’t scream or shout, but it’s _loud_ , sounding like a goddamn beast as he comes. He squeezes her ass so hard that it hurts too much to feel good, but Rook grits through it, feeling warmth pool up inside her as Jacob spends himself.

They stay like that for a few moments, just breathing. Then Rook finally slides off of him and collapses on the bed beside Jacob. His bed wasn’t made for two people, and Jacob already takes up _a lot_ of space, so Rook ends up lying half on top of him.

“So,” Jacob grunts.

“So,” Rook echoes.

“Gonna tell me where the Whitetails are now?”

“Nope.”

“Then leave before I decide to keep you here.”

“Alright,” Rook says, and doesn’t move a muscle.


End file.
